“Och, like the angel!” Tosia cried. Elayne nodded.
“So, has he?” Elayne asked, one of her rich chestnut eyebrows rising high on her forehead.
Tosia’s head flinched slightly. Was she asking if James had gotten her with babe? Such the invasive question! “Has he what?”
“Found his way into your heart? If the king entrusts the man with his life, I can assume ye could do no less. And there is something to be said of a man who would guard ye, champion ye, with his life.”
Do my eyes sparkle like that when I speak of James?Tosia wondered wildly. If they did, then mayhap Lady Elayne's words were accurate.
James had done nothing to perpetuate any vile thoughts toward him and instead done all he could to make her feel welcome, safe, valued.
Elayne patted her shoulder. “If no’ yet, perchance soon enough. I will leave ye to daydream at the tapestries.”
Tosia’s warm blush became a hot flush of embarrassment at her lolly-gagging, and she dropped her gaze to her feet. Elayne’s boisterous laughter carried through the courtyard as she swept back to the keep, leaving Tosia to contemplate Elayne’s words.
Try as she might, hermind still couldn’t focus, and after repeatedly failing to beat the dust from the woven canvases, Tosia dropped her shoulders and returned the paddle back to its place by the kitchens. Mayhap Brigid had a chore in the kitchens that might engage her mind, so she didn’t waste it on girlish fantasies regarding her husband.
Upon entering the kitchens, she was greeted not with smiles but with frantic rushing. Had something happened whilst she daydreamed away the day? Why the chaos? She closed the door behind her and grabbed the sleeve of a chambermaid whose arms held cloths as she shoved past the other kitchen maids.
“Is something amiss?” she asked the curly-haired lass who went by Alana.
“Aye. The king’s men were attacked by the cowardly MacDoualls, caught by surprise. One’s been injured.” Then she ripped away and ran for the doorway to the main hall.
James!Tosia thought crazily. Who else would be a target than the man who’d wreaked havoc on the English and their allies over and over?
Lifting her skirts, Tosia broke into a run, following the woman to the main hall.
But it wasn’t James who was carried in by the Bruce’s men.
The men rushed intothe hall in a storm, not with joyous celebration but in cautious tones.
“Call the midwife!” Asper called out as Tosia followed Brigid out of the kitchens.
The giant red man shoved a young clansman out the main doors, and the lad scrambled to do his bidding.
It wasn’t the man hidden in the circle of men that drew Tosia’s attention; it was the pale expression on James’s face — a foreign look on a man intimate with death and blood. What caused him to look so wan?
Only one thing — if the injury were to her, something out of James’s control. But she was fine, covered with a fine layer of oat flour, maybe. Which could only mean . . .
“Tavish!” she screamed, dropping the cloth she held as she ran to the men.
James caught her around the waist and swung her to his side.
“First, ‘tis no’ as bad as it looks,” he whispered raggedly in her ear. “Second, ye must temper yourself so as no’ to frighten him.”
Tosia stared into James’s ashen eyes, which were nearly as washed out as the rest of his face. She nodded slowly, and only then did James step to the side and permit Tosia to go to her brother.
The gash on Tavish’s side appeared grievous, with blood seeping enough to taint his tunic a frighteningly maroon red. Tosia’s heart raced in her chest, her own fear at her brother’s seemingly dire state gnawing at her like a rat on grain. She reached out her hand and clasped his pale fingers.
“Och, Tosia. I regret ye find me in so pitiful a state. I’m not the warrior I thought myself to be.”
“Posh, dinna say it. Many a great warrior has his battle scars as testament to his greatness. ‘Tis only your sour fortune that your first one is larger than ye expected.”
“Aye,” James’s normally harsh voice was tempered behind Tosia. “Ye’ve seen my back, a collection of scars that would set many men running. Ye are no’ a true warrior until ye have the scars to prove it.”
James’s attempt to build Tavish back up slowed Tosia’s erratic heart. She’d learned he wasn’t quite the monster he’d been painted, and hearing him support her brother only softened her to him all the more.
“Move, move, let me pass,” an authoritative, high-pitched voice announced, and they turned toward the invasive sound.
